Can We Still Be Friends?
by gwendy
Summary: Harry goes to Grimmauld Place to let off some steam. A friend comes over to comfort him only things didn't turn out as it should be...
1. Comfort's Embrace

Can We Still Be Friends? Chapter 1: Comfort's Embrace by: Gwendy 

**"Can We Still Be Friends?"**

_Chapter 1: "Comfort's Embrace"_   
by: Gwendy

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all its characters are the property of author J.K Rowling. This fanfic uses but does not stake claim upon any of the characters so don't sue me!

**Warning!** This fanfic depicts a Harry/Hermione ship or Harry/Hermione love team so if you're not comfortable with this couple, please discontinue reading.

**On the fanfiction:** This story is set right after "The Order of the Phoenix"

**Additional Note:** Haha! Sorry for the wait, guys! But I've finally managed to finish this fic!!! Please visit my Harry/Hermione site, "Quills and Spills" at align=left>

_"Number 12 Grimmauld Place..."_

Somewhere in the quiet suburbs of London, a young bespectacled boy with messy black hair stood between two worn down houses marked numbers11 and 13. He breathed heavily, clutching his Firebolt as a door appeared in front of him, followed by the walls of what looked like an inflating house. When the whole of the house was now visible, he thoughtlessly began fumbling with his scrawny fingers. He stared up and down the house, unsure of what to do next.

Harry Potter had now grown a few inches taller. His skin never looked healthier. He had also gained some weight but that fact made him more pleasing to the eyes, since only a few months before, he had looked absolutely malnourished. Anyone who knew him could see these changes; everyone but Harry himself.

As he continued to stand on the unkempt grass, his mind whirred with mixed up emotions. Everything that had happened during his previous year in the magical school of Hogwarts had affected him in more ways than one: from his involvement in the Order of the Phoenix, to his first kiss, to his troubles with Umbridge, to his battle with Voldemort and the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. Sirius's death was truly a shock to Harry, that even now he mourned his death as much as he did when he saw Bellatrix Lestrange send his godfather beyond the veil.

Harry shook his head off these sad thoughts and walked slowly towards the scratched black door. He was about to push the doorbell when he remembered what had happened when members of the Order pressed it. His face grimaced as he recalled the raving painting of Sirius's mother. Just the name Sirius made him sullen.

Shaking his head again, he put his sights on the serpent-shaped silver doorknocker. He wouldn't have been here if it hadn't been for the Dursleys. After his only living muggle relatives were threatened by members of the Order, the family had begun treating him decently. He was allowed to eat together with the family but with the air of animosity so intoxicating, he preferred eating after the Dursleys, who now, didn't care what or how much he ate. That could probably account for his weight gain. He was rarely, if ever, ordered to do chores and he was even allowed to watch TV. But for the last week, with the opening of the school year coming fast, Uncle Vernon had begun muttering on how it would be nice to get rid of the filth in his house at last. Then, he would sneer at his nephew and Harry immediately understood what he meant.

That night, Harry's temper had flared up so much that he knew he had to get away from the house before he causes another magical mishap like the incident with Aunt Marge. He had flown over London with his Firebolt, not really caring if the Ministry would send him another warning. But with the return of Voldemort and the departure of the Dementors, Harry knew the Ministry had its hands full.

Harry gripped the doorknocker and rapped it against the wood. He didn't know how hard he did it, but he concluded it must've been, after he heard Mrs. Black's ear-splitting screams echoing the hallway.

"Filth! Scum! Bloody half-human! Dirtying my beloved house! That stupid son of mine should've--"

"Oh dry up! Who in the world could that be?!" muttered a tired, yet annoyed voice. Mrs. Black's shrieks stopped abruptly and Harry knew the curtain to her painting had been drawn down. Then, the door swung open.

"Who--HARRY!" came Remus Lupin's surprised voice as his prematurely wrinkled face brightened at the sight of him. Harry knew Lupin had been coming and going to Grimmauld Place to take care of Buckbeak, the hippogriff whom Sirius had left in his care.

"Oh, Harry! Is that you? You've...you've really grown! You look so much like James now!" Lupin ushered his best friend's son inside and closed the door softly. Almost instantly, his demeanor changed from jovial, to serious.

"Did you know how risky that was!? The others wouldn't be too happy about this...especially Dumbledore. What if the Dementors came after you?! The Death Eaters?! Voldemort himself?! And the Ministry might--"

"I don't care. I'd much rather spend the last days of summer here than back _there_," Harry said through clenched teeth, tearing his eyes away from Lupin's. The werewolf gazed intensely at the boy before breaking out into a tight smile.

"You really are like your father now," he commented. "James was a real thrill seeker. Anyway," Lupin immediately changed the subject, seeing how mentioning James Potter reminded Harry about the pensieve incident. "I'll go get your things from Privet Drive. You did pack up, right?"

"A long time ago..." muttered a sullen Harry.

"Okay then," and with a loud crack, Lupin disapparated. Harry thought using the Accio charm would've been easier. But then he thought of what the muggles' reaction would be like after seeing a flying trunk and bird cage. The Accio charm was definitely a bad idea.

Harry slowly made his way up the staircase, past the shrunken heads of Grimmauld Place's previous house elves and into the second landing, his footsteps echoing throughout the dilapidated old house. He looked around the dust-covered walls, reminiscing how beautiful it was last Christmas, when everyone had decorated every nook and cranny with bells and hollies...and with Sirius merrily singing carols at the top of his voice...

"So...famous Harry Potter has come back to the Noble House of Black," said a small gruff voice that Harry recognized all too well. "Little brat thinking he can barge in whenever he wants to...just because that criminal traitor son of Kreacher's beloved mistress happe--"

"Get lost, elf!!!"

"Ah, but alas, Kreacher cannot do so, Harry Potter. Harry Potter is not Kreacher's master. Kreacher answers to the only living Black, Bellatrix Lestrange--"

"Bellatrix is gone and you know that!" Harry fumed, his anger rising. "And Sirius--"

"Yes? What about Kreacher's late master?" the elf looked up at Harry with a grin. "That bloody traitor...he got what he deserved, yes, he did. Kreacher celebrates his demi--"

Before Kreacher could finish his mumbling, Harry seized him by the neck and flung him to the wall. The elf, after making a rather hard impact, thudded against the floor. Slowly, he stood up and threw a hateful glance at Harry before scurrying away.

Panting heavily, Harry looked down at his hand. An image of Hermione pointing her wand at him and shouting 'SPEW! SPEW!' appeared in his head, causing a smile to dance on his lips but just as quickly, his smile faded. All his anger was now focused on Kreacher. How he wished that nasty little devil would just go to Bellatrix already...but he was bound to the house unless his master tells him so...and with Sirius gone...

Harry grabbed the silver serpent-shaped knob and threw the door open. A loud squawk greeted him, followed by a strong breeze. The room was dim, lit only by the quarter moon but the hippogriff's huge form was very much visible, its feathers reflecting the moonlight, giving it an almost luminescent look.

"Buckbeak! Shhh! Calm down!" Harry called, as the creature stood to its full height, excitedly flapping its large wings. Harry did a quick bow which was rewarded with Buckbeak doing the same thing. He then proceeded to stroke the hippogriff's head, its golden eyes closing with gratitude at the gesture. A loud crack told Harry that Lupin had arrived at last and sure enough, he appeared a few minutes later, with a bag full of dead rats.

"Knew you'd be here," Lupin commented, putting the bag beside a hungry Buckbeak, who turned his attention to filling his stomach. "I've put your things in the room you and the boys shared last year."

"Where are you going to sleep?" Harry asked as he watched Buckbeak with little interest.

"I wasn't going to stay here long but since you're here--"

"Oh...sorry to be a bother..."

"No, I don't mind at all. I'm not too keen at going home anyway. I'll need to inform the others that you're here and maybe Molly could come pick you up so you can spend the rest of your summer at the Burrow."

Harry gave a quick nod and continued to stare at Buckbeak. He didn't really know what to say to the man who had been his father's friend and who had been his best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He would've been talking animatedly with him if the circumstances had been different. Silence fell so hard upon them, that Harry wished Lupin would just leave before...

"You know Harry, it's not just you. It's been hard for all of us," Lupin stated calmly, making the young boy wince. "You have to understand that none of this is your fault and that Sirius knew from the beginning the risks involved in--"

"Understand?" Harry's emerald green eyes turned to face Lupin's. "You...all of you tell me to understand..." he said softly, almost in a murmur; but its effect it seems, is greater than when he yells. His voice was deadly serious...deadly calm...almost like a tiger, ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey...

"...but it is you who don't understand me..." Harry continued in the same low voice. "...everything I've been through...no one...not one of you could ever understand..."

"Sirius was like a brother to me," Lupin replied. "You're not the only one who suffered a loss, Harry. We all did and we're all trying to cope. You should do the same," and with that, he pivoted towards the door.

9:24 PM. Harry dropped his arm to his side after checking the time. Over an hour has passed since he got there. Lupin, Harry assumed, was probably asleep by now which could account for his not coming back to check up on him. Harry leaned against the heaving body of Buckbeak, resting his head of black streaks on the slumbering hippogriff's smooth wings. Thoughts ran in and out his head, denying him the peaceful oblivion of sleep that he had sought after. He tried not to think of Sirius, but everything in the house reminded him of his godfather. It was then that he regretted coming there.

_"I should've gone straight to the Burrow instead..."_ Harry thought bitterly. _"Why didn't I--"_

BEEP! BEEP!

The honking of a car horn disrupted Harry's thoughts. He crawled slowly towards the window, so as not to wake his huge friend; but by the time he was able to open it, the car was now empty and the door to Grimmauld Place had been slammed shut. He heard voices from downstairs but it was indistinguishable. Harry crawled back to Buckbeak's side, unsure of what to think. Could they be members of the Order? Or the Weasleys coming to pick him up perhaps? He wouldn't be surprised if they had already gotten an owl from Lupin, stating his whereabouts. But...the Weasleys lost their car years ago. Perhaps Mundungus had found another muggle car to "borrow" and bewitch...or...

"Harry? Are you there?"

Harry's heart jumped to his throat when he heard the voice. He blinked, but did not move from where he was seated.

"I know you're in there! Open up!"

Silence. Harry couldn't utter a word. He didn't really want any company right now.

"You won't open? Fine! Be that way!" the sound of a swishing wand soon followed. _"Alohomora!"_

There was a tiny click, and the door opened. The figure loomed in the darkness, its features becoming more visible as it walked to the patch of moonlight where Harry and Buckbeak sat. A head of bushy golden brown strands met Harry's vision followed by the twinkle of hazel brown eyes. It was Hermione: one of Harry's two best friends in Hogwarts.

"Harry..." Hermione started, but Harry was quick to turn away. Buckbeak lifted his head and blinked at Hermione, apparently annoyed at how her abrupt appearance disturbed him from his sleep.

"Hi, Buckbeak!" Hermione turned her attention to the hippogriff and bowed. Buckbeak tilted his head for a moment, then bowed back. Hermione reached out to stroke his huge eagle head, running her fingers over his smooth feathers.

"What are you doing here?" Harry gritted through his teeth, a feeling of déjà vu overcoming him. It had been like this last Christmas, when Hermione had unexpectedly showed up, cutting her vacation short just to be there.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," Hermione retorted, settling herself beside Harry and leaning against Buckbeak's folded wing.

Harry stayed silent. He didn't want any conversation because he knew what would be coming if he told her that he got ticked off by Uncle Vernon again and decided to cool off at his godfather's ancestral home. Hermione's chastisements would definitely do him or his temper no good. The part of his mind which so often spoke in her voice, had given him enough reprimands to last a lifetime.

"I got an owl from Lupin," Hermione stated when Harry refused to speak. "My parents and I were going home from dinner when that bird flew through the car window. Mum went totally berserk!" She turned her hazel eyes towards Harry's direction, trying hard to meet his eternally green ones but he wouldn't let her. Letting out a deep sigh, she bent her head down.

"Lupin's entertaining Mum and Dad downstairs," Hermione continued. "Harry...are you okay?"

"I couldn't be happier," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Please don't be sarcastic," Hermione pleaded exasperatedly. "I gave you my number ages ago and yet you never answer my calls. I sent you hundreds of letters but you never write back. Ron's complaining about the same things too."

"Let me guess. You went to the Burrow again, didn't you?" said Harry, picking up a feather on the floor and running his fingers along it.

"So you did read my letters! Why di--"

"You really do love going to the Burrow don't you?" Harry interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You just love Ron and his family and that little house, don't you? It's just so much fun there, right?" At the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione's flushed face.

"So what if I have fun there? You have fun there too!"

"Why don't you just go and live with the Weasleys then?! I'm sure they're a hundred times more interesting than your _mudblood_ parents!"

It was like a loud thunder had reverberated within the room. The moment those words flew from his mouth, Harry knew he was in deep trouble. He had never used that word before, let alone referring it to Hermione's parents. He himself was a half-muggle but his temper it seemed, had a mind of its own; it almost felt like Voldemort was speaking through him again.

Deeply regretting what he had said, Harry tilted his head towards Hermione. He saw, to his surprise, how much she had changed. Her long golden brown hair was no longer bushy, but fell on soft elegant curls which ran down her shoulders and down her back. The color of her lips were more pronounced, making Harry suspect she wore some sort of lip balm or a light lip stick. She dressed more appealingly now, and as Harry's eyes traveled further down from her face and neck, he turned into a deep shade of red, forcing him to focus his attention back to her face. He couldn't see Hermione's eyes, for her bangs had concealed them.

"H-Hermione...I..."

"You've changed, Harry," Hermione interjected, her voice cracking. "I d-don't think I recognize y-you anymore..."

Harry was at a loss for words. He didn't really know what to do next. This was probably the worst thing he had ever done to Hermione, seeing how her shoulders rocked with sobs. Harry licked his dry lips and swallowed hard. He knew he had to do something to correct his mistake.

Slowly, Harry reached out and tentatively touched Hermione's shoulder but as if his hand were on fire, Hermione was quickly up on her feet and running for the door.

"Hermione! Wait!" Harry stood up and ran after her. He grabbed her arm then pulled her back, so that now, Hermione was face to face with him, his arms gripping both of her shoulders.

"Look. I--" Harry's words hung in the air. His stomach churned. Hermione's brown eyes were red-rimmed and glazed. Her lips quivered as her tears finally made their way down her cheeks. Harry was speechless. He had never made Hermione cry before.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry! I didn't....I didn't mean to say that. I was just--"

"You're not the only one who's sad and angry about Sirius's death, Harry..." Hermione sniffled. "E-Everyone is," she gently wiped her tears away. "You want to know why I'm angry about it?"

Harry simply blinked.

"Because you've become hateful, Harry!" Hermione's voice thundered. "You've become spiteful! You sound like...like V-Voldemort!!"

Those words shocked Harry; but the real shock came when Hermione suddenly threw her arms around him and buried her face on his shoulder.

"Harry..." she sobbed. "Please...come back...I want the old Harry back..."

Almost instinctively, Harry wrapped his arms around Hermione's shoulders. They stood there, in the comfort of each other's embrace. Everything was silent except for Hermione's soft whimpering.

"_I'm sorry, Hermione...._" Harry thought bitterly, clamping down on his lower lip. "_...but I can never come back...not without Sirius..._"

A strong and frigid breeze suddenly invaded the room, causing both Harry and Hermione shudder, their embrace tightening.

"_Sirius,_" Harry stared at the open window. He didn't know why Sirius's name was the first thing to come to his mind but after a moment, he thought it silly. Slowly, he turned to face Hermione only to find the tip of her nose touching his. He had never seen her this close up before; he could practically see his reflection in her tear-filled brown eyes. But there was something he didn't see: the Hermione he knew. Where was the snobbish, know-it-all girl who had been his best friend for six years and who was this young lady looking at him as if it were for the first time? Memories bombarded Harry's mind in an instant: when Hermione hugged him before he went to face Voldemort...when she ran into his arms after she was cured from being petrified...their ride on Buckbeak...how beautiful she looked during their Yule Ball...when she kissed him for the first time...those many adventures they shared with Ron...her smart way of making him feel better...everything. But all those thoughts were stopped...by the feel of Hermione's soft lips grazing against his own.

Buckbeak tilted his head from side to side, looking at Harry and Hermione with wide curious eyes. Harry didn't know whether it was he or Hermione who moved first but that thought slipped away from him. He didn't even think he was in Grimmauld Place any more. In fact, for the first time in what seemed like ages, he wasn't thinking at all. Everything felt so surreal. This was definitely nothing like the kiss Harry had shared with Cho Chang. Cho had been the one to make the first move and he had been so nervous and surprised then that he had just stood still and unresponsive. As for Hermione's...

"Hermione, dear! It's time to go!" a woman's voice called from downstairs. Harry's eyes flew open, instantly letting go of Hermione as she did him. They stared wildly at each other, barely believing what had just happened. Had it all been a dream?

Slowly, Hermione backed away, covering her mouth with her hand as she continued to gape at Harry. In a flash, she was out the door, her footsteps pounding on the staircase. Harry stood dumbfounded, his eyes glued to the open door.

"Hermione," said a man's voice. "How's your friend Harry? Is he alright?"

"He's fine Dad. He told me he'll be staying here for the night," came Hermione's quick reply.

"What's wrong dear? Why are your eyes red?"

"Nothing, Mum. Let's go. Thank you so much for entertaining us, Lupin."

"No problem. Uh...have a good trip!" Lupin called. Harry could only assume that Hermione had either pushed or pulled her parents to the door.

The sound of the car engine shook Harry from his reverie. He walked towards the window and stared at the muggle car below. Then, he saw some movement inside. Hermione was looking out from the car window and was staring directly at him. His first impulse was to hide but he couldn't tear his eyes away from hers. Even as the car sped away towards the darkness, he still couldn't bring himself to retreat from his vantage point until Buckbeak gave him a small nudge. He looked at the hippogriff and patted it gently with his hand while Hermione's voice resounded in his head:

_"You've changed, Harry..."_

_"I d-don't think I recognize y-you anymore..."_

_"Harry...please...come back...I want the old Harry back..."_

Harry sighed deeply and stared up at the starlit sky. A lot of things have changed since Sirius's death...and after tonight, Harry was sure he could never return back to his old self. He began to wonder if he could ever face Hermione again or if he could still look at her as his best friend. How about her? Will she still think of him as her best friend and nothing more? Will she even speak to him or at least look at him once they return to Hogwarts?

_"Mostly likely not..."_ a voice that was undeniably Hermione's whispered in Harry's mind, making his stomach do flip flops. Yes, things certainly have changed...and Harry could only hope that it's for the better.

Author's Notes

Hehe....still with the cliffhangers eh? I like to keep people on the edge of their seats. What do you think? Please send in some reviews, comments, suggestions and stuff to quillsnspillsyahoo.com 'coz I'd be glad to hear from you. This is my first H/Hr fanfic so please be gentle! . Please visit my Harry/Hermione site at http:quillsnspills.portkey.org/


	2. Consequences

**"Can We Still Be Friends?"**

_Chapter 2: "Consequences"_  
by: Gwendy 

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all its characters are the property of author J.K Rowling. This fanfic uses but does not stake claim upon any of the characters so don't sue me!

**Warning!** This fanfic depicts a Harry/Hermione ship or Harry/Hermione love team so if you're not comfortable with this couple, please discontinue reading.

"Harry? Are you okay, mate? Hey, Harry!" Ron reached out and shook Harry's shoulder.

"Huh? Wha--oh, yeah. Fred and George's joke shop is doing very well. Okay."

"I was talking about the new Nimbus 2004 model up for display in Diagon Alley," Ron's freckled face was stretched by his frown. He ran his fingers across his fiery red hair to smoothen it. "What's wrong with you, mate? You haven't been listening to a word I was saying!"

Harry simply shrugged and looked out of the car window, his green eyes settling over the fields as they zoomed past. Bill and Ron Weasley had come to pick him up two days after he arrived at Grimmauld Place. Even as the Weasley brothers talked to him animatedly about their summer, Harry merely nodded from time to time, giving out weak or forced smiles.

"Really, Harry. What's the matter?" Ron asked again, while opening a box of chocolate frogs. The muggle car they were using suddenly bounced so hard, that the chocolate frog Ron had gripped tightly slipped away from his fingers and jumped on Harry's arm.

"Bloody frog! Catch it Har--ah! You let it get away!" Ron cried exasperatedly as the frog made its way out the window and on to freedom.

"Easy, little brother," Bill chuckled from the driver's seat. "There's still a lot in the bag. Enough to have you full for three whole weeks in fact."

"Yeah..." Ron muttered, opening another box for himself. "Everyone's been acting very weird lately. I mean, I'm the only one here who's noticed it!"

"Maybe you're the one who's acting weird, Ron," Bill replied, a smile spreading across his good-looking face. Harry had always thought that Bill was the coolest of the Weasley brothers. Even though he worked at Gringotts Bank and was expected to be more formal, he wore cool outfits, dragon claw earrings and kept his red hair long, a fact which always gets into his mother's nerves.

"Oh, come off it, Bill!" Ron rolled his eyes. "You've been acting all gentleman like ever since you worked with Fleur! Would you believe he's using Dad's perfume now?" Ron snickered, nudging Harry's arm with his elbow.

"W-well I...I'm just trying to appear nice for a change," Bill stammered. Harry could see Bill's beet-red reflection in the rearview mirror.

"Right..." Ron moved closer to Harry and whispered, "Fleur's been calling day and night for him with that sickly sweet voice: _'Good day! Zis is Fleur Delacour. May I zpeak to Bill Weazley pleaze?'_" he rolled his eyes again. "Fred and George are thinking of using those extendable ears the next time she calls. Maybe you could--"

"You better not be whispering about me," Bill called as he took a right turn.

"You? No...no...I...I was just telling Harry how strange Ginny's been lately."

"Ginny?" Bill raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah. She's been using Errol more often than Mum and Dad. Poor bird."

"And she's always writing these long long letters. I think it's a new boyfriend," Ron took a bite from his chocolate frog. "I snuck up from behind her when she received a reply last night. Something about keeping it a secret. I only managed to see the letter _'D'_ before she saw me and told Mum. Boy...if I find out it's another Michael Corner..."

"Hermione's been acting weird too, hasn't she?" Bill interjected.

"Hermione?" Harry swallowed hard, suddenly looking terrified. "Don't tell me she's at the Burrow too?"

"Of course she is," Ron answered, giving Harry a perplexed look. "She came there yesterday and she wasn't talking as much...just like you. Ginny's been sulking around 'coz Hermione wouldn't listen or tell her what's wrong. Is there something that I ought to know?"

Harry quickly shifted his eyes away. The thought of telling Ron what had happened that night never really occurred to him; and now, when the opportunity presented itself, he couldn't bring himself to tell his best friend the truth. Harry knew that somehow, Ron had taken a liking to Hermione even though they fought like cats and dogs. As for Hermione...

"_What if she likes Ron?_" Harry squirmed in his seat. It disturbed him more than he had thought it would. What if Hermione does like Ron better than him?

"_If so, why did she kiss me?_" Harry wondered. That thought made him relax a bit until a realization occurred to him. Was it really Hermione who kissed him or was it him who kissed her?

"Harry! Harry!" a hand waved in front of Harry's eyes.

"W-what?"

"We're here," Ron gave Harry a funny stare from outside the car. "Come on. Bill's already got your luggage."

With great effort, Harry pulled himself away from the seat and slowly trekked towards the Weasley's home. No sooner had he set foot on the doorstep when Mrs. Weasley came bounding towards him with wide, open arms.

"Harry, dear! It's so good to see you!" she gave Harry one of her motherly hugs which unfortunately for the young wizard, can cause quite a discomfort. "Oh, Harry! You've really grown! And I see that those dreadful relatives of yours finally took our advice on giving you a bit of nourishment. I don't think I've ever seen you so healthy!"

"C'mon, Molly. You're crushing the boy," grinned Mr. Weasley, reaching over to ruffle Harry's already messy, dark hair. "How're you doing, Harry?"

"Fine," Harry breathed heavily when Mrs. Weasley let him go. He didn't exactly enjoy being treated like a child, but being treated like family more than made up for it.

"Let's go in and have a spot of breakfast then, shall we, Harry?" Mrs. Weasley gave out a warm smile and ushered Harry in the house.

The kitchen was a buzz of activity when they arrived. The ladle was stirring itself in a pot of hot soup. The toaster kept popping out toasts and flying them across the room towards a large plate where a bread knife scraped the burnt parts off the bread. A jar of honey was flying over piles of pancakes and pouring itself on it.

"Harry! I see you got here in one piece," George piped up as he and Fred entered the room, both wearing identical silk robes. It was only then that Harry saw the changes in the house. Everything seemed brand new. The kitchen utensils, tables, chairs, table cloths, the Weasleys' clothes...even Mr. Weasley's pipe looked fresh from the store. This sight made him eager to visit Fred and George's joke shop.

"Yeah. I managed to take off the Perky Jerky you stuck on the car dash," Bill held up what looked like a pink bandage with purple colored polka dots. "This is the third time you turned me into one of your guinea pigs."

"Did it really work?" Fred asked eagerly.

"Yep," Bill beamed and winked. "Save me a dozen of these. I want to stick it on some chairs at Gringotts."

"No wonder the car was so jumpy!" Ron stated as he took a seat. Harry did the same. He reached for his plate only to grab at thin air.

"Mrs. Weasley! I just got the plates from the cupboard."

"Thank you, dear. Just distribute them on the table."

CRASH!!!

All heads turned to the direction of the noise including Harry's. That's when his eyes met those all to familiar hazel brown ones. Hermione stood stiffly, her hands clamping over her mouth as she stared with wide eyes at Harry. She quickly shifted her gaze to the floor which was littered with pieces of broken plates.

"I...I-I-I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry, Mrs. Weasley! I'll go get my wand!" Hermione dashed towards the staircase.

"Hermione, dear! I'll do it! Her---oh well," Mrs. Weasley sighed and took out her wand. "Reparo!"

In an instant, the pieces of the plate came together and fused. With another wave of her wand, Mrs. Weasley made the plates distribute themselves on the table.

"Hi, Harry," Ginny entered the room, smiling widely. She flipped her long red hair and continued to read a length of parchment while stroking her chin with a quill. "Dad, have you seen Errol?"

"Probably hiding from you, dear," Mr. Weasley teased, sipping from his cup of coffee. "I haven't seen him much lately. Who are you really writing to?"

"Just friends," Ginny replied quickly. Too quickly, Harry thought.

"Yeah right! You're only writing to one friend!" Ron retorted. "Who's this 'D' anyway?! Dean Thomas?!"

"I don't ask you who you fancy...even though I know!" Ginny giggled and ran out of the kitchen, leaving Ron to blush heavily.

"Girls..." grumbled Ron, reaching for a toast. "It really might be Dean Thomas. She mentioned that in the train a few months ago, remember?"

"If it was Dean, he would've been comfortable calling on the felytone. He's your friend after all," said Fred, taking a seat on Ron's left.

"It's telephone, Fred," George made a grab for three pancakes while sitting himself beside Harry. "And besides, I haven't seen Ginny using the phone or anything. Hmm...a 'D' you say?"

"It might be 'D' for Draco," Fred spoke up. A moment of silence fell upon the table. Then, the twins burst out laughing. Even Harry managed to let out a chuckle.

"Funny," Ron let out what seemed like a nervous laugh. "She'd never go out with that git...right?"

"Well, we never thought Cho would be interested in Harry either. Oh, sorry mate," George gave Harry a pat on the back.

"No, that's okay," Harry smiled. He could care less about Cho Chang now. Not ever...after his and Hermione's kiss two days ago...

"Ginny dear, could you please call Hermione? She's been gone quite a while," Mrs. Weasley finished serving the soup just as Ginny re-entered the room. She nodded and skipped merrily towards the stairs.

"Boy...she's in a good mood," Bill smiled and sat beside Mr. Weasley. "Oh, by the way Dad, Mum, Charlie called on the phone. He's sends his regards."

"Isn't that sweet of him? Remind me to call him back, Arthur," Mrs. Weasley took a seat beside her husband, which was right across Bill.

"Come on, Hermione. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day! You mustn't miss it," Ginny called, slowly making her way down the stairs while pulling on Hermione's hand. Harry nervously nibbled on a piece of toast while watching Hermione's slow descent at the corner of his eye.

"Come now, dear," Mrs. Weasley crooned. "The plates are alright. Go on. Take a seat."

Hermione didn't move and Harry knew why. There were two empty seats: one on his side, and one on Ron's side, which was right across Harry. He swallowed hard. It seemed like an eternity before Hermione finally took a seat...beside Ron. Harry's loud intake of breath caused Pigwidgeon, Ron's tiny owl, to wake up and start flitting about in his cage.

"Bloody bird!" Ron cried before standing up to remove the cage from the kitchen. He came back as quickly as he went, plopping down excitedly on his seat.

Breakfast went on as usual. The Weasleys were having a casual and jovial conversation. It seems that now, they were being very careful not to mention anything about Percy, the Weasley brother who had moved out in disapproval of his parents. Everything was normal except for Harry and Hermione's silence and the way they avoided each other's gaze. Once in a while, Ron would try to engage Hermione in small talk only to end up frustrated by her silent nods. Meanwhile, Harry continued to sip his soup with obvious disinterest.

_"Needs a bit of salt..."_ he thought, and reached across the table, only to wrap his fingers around Hermione's hand. She had also made a grab for the salt shaker. His emerald eyes shot up and met Hermione's golden brown ones. Hermione immediately jerked her hand away and put it under the table. Her bangs concealed her eyes just like two nights before but Harry could clearly see her flushed cheeks.

"G-go ahead, H-Hermione..." Harry struggled to talk casually and held the salt shaker up for Hermione.

"Uhmm...uh..." Hermione bit her lip, still avoiding Harry's gaze. "Th-thanks, but no thanks," she turned her attention to Mrs. Weasley. "Mrs. Weasley, I don't feel like eating much. May I be excused?"

"Why? What's wrong, dear? Are you coming down with something?"

"No, I just feel kind of full."

"Well, okay. But if you're not feeling well, just let me know."

Hermione gave a quick smile and stood up from the table. Her eyes lingered on Harry for a split second before she exited the kitchen.

"What's with her?! You think she'd--you alright, Harry?" Ron questioned.

"Huh? Uhm...yeah," Harry pushed his plate away. "Mrs. Weasley, I'd like to be excused from the table, please."

"But Harry, dear, you barely touched your food!"

"I've had a bit of snack before the trip," Harry lied.

"Alright dear. Feel free to come back if you get hungry again."

"I'll be in your room," Harry nodded at Ron, stood up and slowly walked away from the table. He trudged up the stairs and in to the second landing. The door to Ron's room was only a few distance away but he went past that and stood in front of a door which led to a room he had never set foot in: Ginny's room. From behind the door, Harry could hear Hermione's soft whimpers. It brought back bad memories of the night he had hurt her, making him grimace. He wanted so much to comfort her...to tell her that everything was going to be alright. He took a deep breath. This was his chance. He had to confront her about what happened. They have to discuss it...or risk losing their friendship. But then he wondered: does he really want everything the way it was...before their kiss? Yes, he would have liked it better that way. But when the memory of Hermione's lips against his own replayed in his mind, he realized that he wanted something else. His heart beat maddeningly against his chest. He had felt this way before, but never as deeply as now. He was falling in love with Hermione.

"_But what if she doesn't feel the same for me?_" Harry's hands balled into fists. There was only one way to find out. He raised his hand and curled his fingers around the door knob. He held his breath as he slowly turned the knob open.

"Harry? What are you doing?"

In an instant, Harry's hand was off the knob and into his pocket. He turned to face Ginny, who was still clutching her length of parchment only this time, Pigwidgeon was sitting on her shoulder.

"Nothing," came Harry's quick reply. "What are you doing with Pig?"

"Oh," she looked at the tiny owl and blushed. "Don't tell Ron, okay? I couldn't find Errol so I'm kind of _borrowing_ Pig to send my letter," she then turned serious. "Now, can you tell me what you're doing in front of my room?"

"Th-this is your room?! I thought it was Ron's!" Harry gave out a fake chuckle. "I must've gotten confused. See you, Ginny," he walked past the red-haired witch and opened the door to Ron's room.

"Something's going on with you and Hermione, is there?" Ginny called, stopping Harry in his tracks. With frightened eyes, Harry stared at the youngest of the Weasleys while swallowing a huge lump in his throat. Does she know? Certainly, Ginny and Hermione had become quite close for the past few years. Who's to say Hermione wouldn't confide to her?

"Look. If you're having a fight, you should patch it up quick," Ginny stated with an air of knowledge around her. This made Harry sigh loudly with relief. She doesn't know a thing after all. Of course! Hermione's smart enough to keep that matter to herself.

"Oh my! You were going to patch up with her!" Ginny gasped. "I'm so sorry! You go ahead. I'll go to Fred's and George's room to send Pig off instead," and with that, she dashed towards the Weasley twins' room.

"Right then..." Harry whispered to himself and took another huge breath of air. He stepped in front of Ginny's door again but this time, he didn't put his hand on the knob. It would be rude if he suddenly burst in. It's better to announce his presence first.

"Her--Ooof!" Harry was cut off by a strong force hitting him on the chest. He had pulled his foot back just in time to stop himself from falling. He lowered his eyes to a head of brown curls buried on his chest. Hermione immediately looked up at him, her red-rimmed eyes full of shock and surprise. Apparently, she had dashed out of the room for reasons unknown...right into Harry's arms.

An awkward silence came upon the sunlit hallway of the Burrow's second landing. Harry could practically hear his heart beating, almost in a drum roll. He could even feel Hermione's, being that she was still pressed against his chest.

"Hermione..." Harry begun, his voice strangely soft and mellow. "Hermione...I'd like to ta--"

"Let go of me!" came Hermione's shrill cry, making Harry step back in surprise. Breaking away from the young wizard's embrace, Hermione quickly ran down the stairs, not daring to look back at a stunned Harry.

Harry didn't know how long he stood on the empty hallway, still staring blankly at the stairs. Finally, he leaned on the wall and almost dramatically, slid down to the floor. He felt weak...but it wasn't because he didn't eat breakfast. It was because of what he saw flickering in Hermione's tear-filled eyes: anger.

_"Why?!"_ Harry slapped his hand against his forehead and ran it along his dark hair. _"Why would she be so angry at me?! I didn't do anything to..."_ At that moment, Harry's eyes widened as a horrible realization dawned on him. He had done something to her. He had kissed Hermione...and by the looks of it, it had been against her will. Harry bent his head down, concealing his eyes behind the strands of hair that fell on his face. He had never felt so low in his life. How could he have done what he did without even thinking about Hermione's feelings? But still...he wasn't sure if he _had_ been the one to make the first move. Either way, the effect was the same. He and Hermione will never be friends again...

Author's notes

I'm finished with the this chapter! Will Harry and Hermione patch up their relationship? Find out more and click to chapter three!


	3. Twists of Fate

**"Can We Still Be Friends?"**

_Chapter 3: "Twists of Fate"_  
by: Gwendy 

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all its characters are the property of author J.K Rowling. This fanfic uses but does not stake claim upon any of the characters so don't sue me!

**Warning!** This fanfic depicts a Harry/Hermione ship or Harry/Hermione love team so if you're not comfortable with this couple, please discontinue reading.

Two days have passed. For Harry Potter, it seemed like two long weeks. He had isolated himself from everyone in the Burrow, most especially from Hermione. He rarely came out of the room he and Ron shared, a fact which made the Weasleys worry. Ron had tried more than once to ask him what was wrong; but one hard glare from the scarred wizard was enough to shut him up.

Harry stared down at the letter he had gotten the day before. It was a total shock to him and everyone in the Burrow. He never thought he'd hate receiving it. He had wanted it once but with the way things were, he felt like burning this piece of parchment; but of course, that wouldn't change anything. The letter had come from Hogwarts. Apparently, he had been instated as the new prefect, taking over Ron's position. It _is_ good news...except for the fact that Hermione also received a letter announcing her extended term as prefect. That meant they were going to be together almost all of the time...and that's not exactly good.

A loud crash disturbed Harry from his reverie, followed by Mrs. Weasley's loud wail: "Fred! Stop with those experiments already! George, don't you dare try that Instant-Earthquake-in-a-Can! Go back to work! Reparo!"

Harry pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and put the letter back in the envelope. The Weasleys were busy downstairs, preparing a congratulatory party for Harry and Hermione just like they did when Ron and Hermione became prefects. Ron was obviously disappointed with the news, trying in vain to steer every conversation away from the matter. He refused to help with the day's preparations but that was before Mr. Weasley forced him into doing something which made the freckled wizard even more frustrated: putting up the streamer which said "Congratulations, Harry and Hermione, Gryffindor's newest Prefects!".

_"At least now he'll know how I felt!"_ Harry stood up from the bed and tossed the letter on the dresser. Even though he knew it was wrong, Ron's plight made him feel good. Quickly, he changed from his pajamas to his Hogwarts robes, pinning his prefect badge on his chest. With a heavy sigh and an even heavier heart, he made his way out the room.

"I still don't understand why Dumbledore picked you for the new prefect," Ron thought out loud, for the fifth time it seemed. His voice sounded awkward...as if he were trying to stop himself from ranting and raving. He and Harry were pushing their trolleys towards the brick wall which lead to Platform 9 3/4 . The others were farther behind them.

"I mean, think about it. Everyone who's been chosen for sixth year prefect had gone through being a fifth year prefect," said Ron. "And you..."

"I was supposed to be the one chosen last year but Dumbledore said I had enough responsibilities as it is," Harry muttered through clenched teeth, quite fed up with his best friend's incessant babbling.

"Oh yeah?" Ron retorted in a somewhat skeptical manner. "How come he chose you now, huh?"

"Come off it Ron!" Harry thundered, unable to hide his annoyance. "Just say outright how jealous you are especially of the fact that it's _me_ who'll have more time with Hermione and not you!"

"I-I'm not jealous!" Ron thundered back, his freckled cheeks clearly showing a blush. "And how come you're suddenly mentioning Hermione?! Didn't you two have a fight?"

"A fight?" Harry stopped dead in his tracks. "Who told you that?!"

"Come on! Everyone could see how you two wouldn't even look at each other during the party...and you were sitting side by side!"

"Just...just shut up, Ron!" Harry made a dash towards the entrance of the platform, avoiding any more confrontation. For the brief moment he was engulfed in total darkness, Harry recalled what had taken place a few hours ago, back in the Burrow. It had felt awkward for him, to sit and poke silently at his food while everyone laughed, cheered, and clinked their Butterbeer bottles together. What was more awkward, was sitting right beside Hermione at the front of the table. She had eaten very little and spoke very little but never to Harry.

The loud whistle coming from the Hogwarts Express startled the young wizard, almost causing him to lose his balance. The platform was filled with students as well as some parents, bidding goodbye to their children. Most of the sixth years were already in the train, some, like Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan, waving at him from their compartments.

"Hello, Harry," A fifth year student with straggly, dirty blonde hair came bounding towards the wizard, her necklace of Butterbeer corks bouncing around on her neck.

"Oh...uh...hi, Luna," Harry greeted back, quite flustered. He didn't exactly enjoy company with his weird friend and he doesn't really want anyone to see him hanging around with her either.

"Congratulations on making prefect," Luna Lovegood smiled, her pale eyes scanning through the sea of students. "Where's Hermione? I wanted to show her this but since you're here, I'll show you first," Luna took her wand, which she had tucked behind her ear and tapped it on her chest. Suddenly, a bright neon sign appeared on her cloak which said "Congratulations, Harry and Hermione!"

"Neat, huh?" Luna asked, tucking her wand back on her ear. "Oh! Oh! Hi, Ronald!"

Ron and the others were slowly emerging from the wall. Ron grimaced when he saw the sign on Luna's cloak but managed to put on a small smile.

"Uh...yeah. Hi Luna."

"You must be so proud, having your two best friends as prefects," Luna said dreamily, her eyes fixed firmly on Ron. "Probably as proud as Harry was when you and Hermione were prefects."

"Yeah...whatever," Ron rolled his eyes and stormed towards the train. Surprisingly, Luna seemed to have discarded her shy side and tagged along with Ron.

"I've saved all of us a compartment. We could travel to Hogwarts together again like we did last year," Luna continued, walking ahead of Ron, practically pulling his trolley along with her. This sight made Harry snicker.

"What's so funny?" Ginny asked, giving Harry a puzzled look.

"Nothing," Harry lied, his short moment of amusement disappearing.

"Well then, you better put your luggage away and start your rounds. Hermione's already giving out orders."

The compartment Harry shared with the others was full of chatter, mostly coming from Ginny, Luna and Neville Longbottom. Hermione was _"still doing her rounds"_ which left Harry and Ron the only quiet persons on the small enclosure.

"My Mimbuius mimbletonia has gotten to big for me to carry around," complained Neville, who was sitting on Harry's left.

Ginny, who was sitting on Harry's right, leaned over to Luna and whispered, "I hope it gets bigger then."

Luna let out a loud laugh, drawing everyone's attention including a startled Ron, who was sitting beside her. She tried to stop laughing by holding her breath but instead, ended up snorting loudly. This made everyone laugh.

"I certainly hope you're not talking about me," came a sinister, drawling voice Harry knew all too well. All five people turned to face Draco Malfoy, who was leaning against the compartment's entrance, his two goons, Crabbe and Goyle, standing behind him.

"Because if you are," Draco continued, settling his steel gray eyes over Harry, "I will be forced to imply certain consequences."

"Stop bugging us, Malfoy!" Ron fumed, his face turning red hot.

"Oh," Draco snickered. "And what are you going to do to me, oh _demoted_ one? Potty here's taken your place! Isn't that right, Prefect Perfect Potter?"

In a flash, Ron was out of his seat, his wand ready and aimed straight at Malfoy's face.

"You just shut up, for once! Haven't you had enough of being turned into the disgusting, slimy slug you are?!" the redheaded wizard threatened menacingly, his pale fingers curling tightly around his wand.

"Transforming me again, are you?" Draco smirked, an air of arrogance around him. "Do you know the punishment for hexing a prefect? You're lucky I didn't snitch on you then or else every single one of you so called D.A. members would've been expe--"

"That's 'coz slugs don't have vocal chords, you nitwit!" Ron yelled. "Besides, I know you were scared that we would--"

"Ron, please stop," a small, soft voice spoke. All of them turned to stare at Ginny, who was looking directly at Draco. Draco stared back at her. Silence engulfed the compartment before Slytherin's prefect finally broke the ice.

"Well then..." he cleared his throat, running his hand over his silvery blonde hair. "I have an important task at hand. Later, Weasley."

"It's you who'll be picked as Quidditch Captain, Harry. I just know it," Ron commented as he and Harry touched down on the Quidditch field after a day of practice. A week has passed since they arrived at Hogwarts. Today was the day that a new captain for the Gryffindor team will be picked. Ron seemed genuinely happy for Harry, as their differences were settled after the whole episode on the train with Malfoy.

"Maybe," Harry smiled, striding towards the court's exit. "I just hope those Slytherins don't make a song about me."

"Yeah," Ron snickered at the memory. "But it worked to our advantage, didn't it? And speaking of Slytherins, have you noticed that Malfoy hasn't been pestering us anymore?"

"You should just be thankful for it," Harry yawned, fatigue slowly taking over him.

"I mean, sure I am...but it's strange," Ron's red brows met in the middle. "Remember on the train when he said _'Later, Weasley'_? I have a feeling that he wasn't referring to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Usually, he pounds my family name as if it were profanity...or calls me Weasel instead of Weasley."

"Well, we never can understand that git now can we?" Harry wiped a bit of dust that had attached itself on his Firebolt's handle.

"Uh...Harry," Ron started in an unsure tone. "How are things...between you and Hermione?"

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. He had completely forgotten. The job as prefect and the excitement of Quidditch had taken his mind off a lot of things including that matter. That's when he truly realized how much Hermione had been avoiding him. He hadn't seen her all week long. In fact, he hadn't seen her on the train either.

"How's _she_ doing?" Harry asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Same as usual," Ron sighed. "Always in the library, silent, irritable...and she's faltering a bit on her prefect duties," he tilted his head side ways to see his best friend's reaction but he was only met with the back of the scarred wizard's head. "Why don't you two sort out whatever your problem is? Or perhaps you should tell me what it is. Maybe I could help?"

"NO!" Harry cried vehemently, startling his tall, freckled friend. Immediately, he changed his tone. "I...I mean, no," he tightened his grip around his Firebolt. "It's something Hermione and I must deal with. N-nothing personal," Harry quickly added after seeing Ron open his mouth to speak. "But trust me, Ron...you're better off not knowing."

"Fine," Ron stated glumly. "I'll just go finish practicing on my moves. Katie Bell said she'll be coming here any moment with the others anyway. See you, mate!" he gave Harry a pat on the back before flying off on his broom.

Harry slowly made his way to the castle. Walking away from the Quidditch field felt like waking up from a dream and back to the harsh world of reality. How was he ever going to make things better between him and Hermione? She hated him now. And sadly enough...he still loved her.

_"I'm such an idiot!"_ Harry raked his fingers across his messy, black hair. He hated himself...probably even more than Hermione did. But what can he do? If Sirius were alive, he would've turned to his godfather for advice a long time ago. The thought of Sirius's death made him even more frustrated. He was just about ready to hex anyone or anything.

"What do you care if I'm against it?! I'm pretty sure everyone else will be once they hear of it!" roared a voice Harry couldn't help but recognize. He turned to the source. A few distance away was Hermione, standing firmly on the ground as if she were glued to it, her back towards Harry. Quickly but silently, the young wizard moved in closer, settling himself behind a tree. It was twilight then, the dark shadows making him invisible. Making sure he was still concealed, Harry dared a glimpse. Hermione was confronting three people, two of which, were holding the person in the middle by his arms.

"Crabbe! Goyle! Let go of me, you two baboons!" Draco hissed, struggling to free himself from Crabbe and Goyle's tight grip; but the two boys didn't look defiant, dominant or angry. They looked scared...scared of what their friend might do next.

"I swear, Granger!" Draco spat, his face contorted in anger. "I swear! If you tell anyone..."

"I'm not going to let this continue, Malfoy!" Hermione yelled with as much intensity in her voice. "I'm not going to let you hurt anyone, least of all my friends!!!"

"Hurt...? HURT?!" with a sudden burst of strength, Draco managed to free himself from his two friends and in a flash, slapped Hermione so hard that she fell on the soft earth. "That's what you call HURT! And I'd never do anything like that to HER! Is that what you all think?! That I'm nothing but a monster?!"

Harry gaped at a whimpering Hermione kneeling on the ground. Anger such as he'd never felt before rushed through his veins, making his blood boil. Without thinking, he emerged from his hiding place and violently tackled Malfoy.

"You sniveling snake!!!" Harry shouted, giving a hard and poweful blow on Draco's jaw.

It was a bloodbath. That was the only way it could be described. Each punch from the two boys contained all the hatred they've had for each other, fortified with the current events which led to the worst fight they ever had. Harry was deaf to everything but the voice of his rage; even Hermione's pleas for him to stop were to no avail. He hated Malfoy. Hated him so much he wanted to kill him. Just when Harry thought he had the upper hand, Draco came back at him, burying his fist so hard in Harry's stomach that it made him spit out blood. Harry's vision blurred. His head started to spin. Then he fell. His glasses lay in front of him, broken beyond recognition. He felt someone cradle his head. Hermione's tear-streaked face came into view. Then, everything went blank.

**Author's Notes: ** Okay, okay. Cliffhangers. Okay. And most especially, a lot of you are probably complaining as to why Harry should lose to Malfoy? Well...first of all, it's my fic and I get to decide whatever happens. Second, Harry's always winning. At least let Draco win for once. Third, it would totally change my story if I let Harry win and lastly, I assume Draco to be in more fights with other students than Harry ever had so Draco (in my opinion) has a bit more experience on that department. Hope nobody finds this offensive...


	4. Through the Looking Glass

**"Can We Still Be Friends?"**

_Chapter 4: "Through the Looking Glass"_  
by: Gwendy 

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter and all its characters are the property of author J.K Rowling. This fanfic uses but does not stake claim upon any of the characters so don't sue me!

**Warning!** This fanfic depicts a Harry/Hermione ship or Harry/Hermione love team so if you're not comfortable with this couple, please discontinue reading.

"Harry! Oh, Harry!"

"Blimey! Is 'at really 'im?!"

"Quick! Take him to the Hospital Wing!"

"Bloody hell!"

"He's going to be fine, children..."

"'ang in there, 'arry..."

A mixture of different voices echoed in Harry Potter's confused mind. The voices sounded distant...like it was coming from the other side of a tunnel. Everything was pitch black. Harry couldn't hear anything...couldn't feel anything. It was as if all his senses were taken from him.

Then, the image of Hermione's tear-streaked face appeared in his head, waking him from his slumber. He opened his eyes but only managed to open it in small slits. His vision was blurry. He squinted, gradually gaining his focus little by little.

Feeling a presence beside him, Harry painfully tilted his head sideways. He could see a head of disheveled brown curls, resting on his bedside. That's when he felt a hand around his: Hermione's hand.

"Hermione..." Harry called, his voice hoarse and whispery. Slowly, he reached over to touch her hair lightly only to end up moaning in pain. His body ached all over, reminding him of what had happened hours ago. Recalling how Draco had mercilessly hit Hermione made his blood boil.

"H-Harry!" Hermione breathed. She was awake at last. Harry squinted again but he couldn't exactly make out the features Hermione's face. Then he realized he didn't have his glasses on.

"Glasses..." he croaked.

"Y-You're eyes are...are too swollen for that," Hermione stammered, quickly standing up and pouring a bottle of purplish liquid into a glass. Then, to Harry's surprise, Hermione put her hand behind his head, the other around his shoulder, and helped him prop himself up.

"Here. Madam Pomfrey told me to have you drink this once you wake up," she held the glass up to Harry's lips. The liquid sizzled and hissed, giving out a strange, burnt smell but oddly enough, it tasted just like water. Harry finished the potion and immediately, all the pain fled from his body.

"Thanks..." Harry laid back on the fluffy pillows. Even though the pain was gone, he was still weak. He shifted his gaze towards the window. A full moon peaked from behind the dark clouds, the stars bright and twinkling.

"Moon...how long...how long was I out?" Harry turned to Hermione for an answer. Silence. He reached for his glasses and put them on. The spectacles were broken but he still managed to focus on Hermione, who was sitting on a stool, her fists curled on her lap. She had her head down, her shoulders shaking..

"Hermione..."

"You IDIOT!" Hermione cried, suddenly throwing her arms around Harry, knocking his glasses off in the process.

"Idiot! Idiot!" Hermione repeated, pounding her hands on Harry's chest. "How could you have done that?! With all the blows you received, Malfoy could've killed you! Didn't you ever think about that!?" she sobbed, tears streaming down her face.

"I only did that to protect you," Harry replied, his face darkening. "When I saw him hit you, I...I just lost myself! I wasn't going to let that scumbag get away with it!"

A moment of silence fell upon them. Harry felt Hermione's arms tighten around him. Then, she pulled herself up.

"Protect me?" she asked in a confused tone. "Why would you do that? I thought..."

"Thought what?" Harry asked.

"I thought you hated me..."

Another stretch of silence. Harry opened his mouth to speak but no words came from them. His mind was in complete disarray. What gave Hermione the impression that he hated her?

"Huh?" Harry mused. "Hate you? Why would you even think that?"

Hermione sat back on her stool. From what Harry could see, she was wringing her hands together, her tears glistening under the moonlight.

"Because I kissed you and I know I shouldn't have because you're my best friend and I know you're never going to take an interest in me and it's my fault I ruined things for both of us," Hermione gushed out in one breath. Then, she inhaled deeply and added, "I'm really sorry...I shouldn't have assumed..."

"What?!" Harry exclaimed. "But _I_ was the one who kissed _you_! Isn't that why you hated me and avoided me all week long?!" Harry's emotions where in turmoil. Thinking back to that fateful night, he was definitely sure he had moved his face first. His reflection in Hermione's eyes, her heart-shaped lips, her body against his...all of that had gotten to him...hypnotizing him into doing what he did.

"Huh? But I was sure that I..." Hermione's words hung in the air as she and Harry stared silently at each other. The truth was out. Both of them, it seemed, had kissed each other at the same time. A strange feeling overwhelmed Harry, a feeling he knew Hermione was also experiencing at that very moment. It was a mixture of peace, contentment, and another emotion which made both of them blush heavily.

More out of nervousness than practicality, Hermione grabbed Harry's glasses from the bed and chanted, "Occulus, Reparo," and in an instant, the broken specs were fixed.

"You're always doing that, aren't you?" Harry smiled.

"I don't know why I do it..." Hermione chuckled, her cheeks showing a rosy tint. "You look so good without them..." she reached over to put the glasses on Harry but the wizard held the witch's hands in his.

"If you really think I look good without them..." Harry pulled his arms down, taking Hermione's hands along with him. "...then I guess I can wait a while before putting them on..."

"Harry..."

"Hermione...I...I don't want to be just your friend..."

It must've been the moonlight...or the sparkle in Hermione brown eyes. Perhaps it was because of the way they held each others hands...or how close they were to each other. Regardless of those factors, it all led to one thing. Before Harry even knew it, he was holding Hermione in his arms, his lips pressed softly against hers. He felt Hermione arms tighten around him. Wonder overwhelmed Harry. Hermione did love him. He could feel it in the way she kissed him back, in the way she held him. Harry felt the same way he did on the night of their first kiss...like he was no longer in the hospital wing...or Hogwarts for that matter. He felt like he was in another place...a place were no hate or sorrow could ever come to darken his world. A place were only he in Hermione basked under the glow of a feeling he had come to know as love.

Harry opened his eyelids as slowly as he pulled his face away from Hermione's. There was that look again. Hermione was looking at him as if it were for the first time. A smile rippled on her beautiful face, melting Harry's heart.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione threw her arms around him again. "I never thought...I thought you'd never..."

"Like I said. I don't think you're ugly..." Harry interrupted. "I think you're beautiful inside and out. And..." he tightened his embrace around his former best friend. "I...I can't love you as a friend any more...I mean I _don't_ want to love you as a friend...I mean..." Harry swallowed, trying to find the right words to say. "What I'm trying to say is...can you be...can I be...can we be..."

"Sure, Harry" Hermione answered softly, still smiling. "I'm willing to take the next step..."

"W-well..." Harry chuckled to himself, resting his back against the headboard, his new girlfriend still in his arms. "That was easy. And by the way, Hermione..."

"Yes?"

"What exactly made Draco hit you like that?" Harry asked, scanning the whole room, his eyes sparkling with a glint of anger. "Is that git still in here?!"

"Not anymore. He left hours ago," Hermione suddenly turned serious. "The reason he hit me because...I learned about his secret relationship with Ginny."

"WHAT!??!"

"Shhh!" Hermione put a finger on Harry's lips. "I saw them last night by the lake. I was hiding behind a tree," Hermione swallowed and continued. "They were about to kiss when Draco sort of sensed someone was watching. That's when he saw me. And that basically led to the confrontation we had today."

"Did he tell Ginny that he saw you?"

"I don't think so. But after today, I doubt she doesn't know."

Harry was left speechless. He leaned back on the headboard, stroking Hermione's hair. Everything was happening so fast that he was still in complete shock. The revelation of Ginny and Draco's relationship isn't helping one bit.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"What should we do about Ron? Ron...Ron fancies me and..."

"Yeah...I know," Harry sighed deeply. Then, he thought of Hermione's revelation about Ginny. "But somehow...I don't think we'll be his problem once he learns about Romeo and Juliet..."

**THE END**

**Author's Notes:** Well, I really hope you enjoyed that. I might do a sequel, but I'll see if I can get the time to do so. Took a lotta work to make this fic. It's my first so please be gentle in sending out your comments. You can e-mail me at quillsnspillsyahoo.com and visit my site at http:quillsnspills.portkey.org


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